The Psychology of Sleep
by Diana Lucifera
Summary: When a run in with a mysteriously powerful Bakura leaves Seto Kaiba in a magical coma, the gang has to use the powers of the Millennium Items to save Kaiba quite literally from himself. Some Seto/Joey, AU from Battle City
1. Prologue, or Batten the Hatches

I started writing this for NaNo. I've actually got several chapters done, just... not in any particular order. The next one is done completely, though, and the two after that just need editing. I'm currently working on a different story, so whether I will be updating this fic very much is debatable at best. But I though you guys might as well enjoy the fruits of my labour. And who knows? Maybe I'll get inspired.

I do not own YuGiOh, by any stretch of the imagination. No profit is being made from this story. It's written purely for personal enjoyment.

* * *

Seto Kaiba allowed himself a victory chuckle at his opponent's expense. God, he thought, Joey Wheeler really was an idiot. He finished off his move and watched as Joey's Red Eyes Black dragon disappeared in a shower of pixels. In their reflected light, Seto could see Wheeler standing stock still as his life points hit zero, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open.

As if he were actually surprised. _Honestly_.

And yet, if he were truthful, there had been a few moments were Seto had even questioned his _own_ ability to win this duel. Wheeler had challenged him a total of four times since Seto's near victory in the Battle City tournament, a quite impressive number considering the Kaibas had only returned from America a week and a half ago. Since then, Wheeler had been unrelenting in his challenges, and each time, though Seto refused to admit it, it became more and more of a challenge to defeat him. Of course, this only served to make Wheeler's eventual defeat (and they were _all_ defeats, in the end) all the more delicious. In an angry outburst during the heated exchange that accompanied that first difficult duel, Seto had snapped out, _"I don't have fun!"_

Wheeler had laughed at him.

Well, Seto had to admit that, while he may not have fun in the conventional sense, watching the other boy's face crumble under the weight of his own failure time and time again was a pretty close substitute.

His knowledge of human psychology told him that this was abnormal, but then again, since when had ever he been a shining example of a psychologically healthy specimen? He really couldn't bring himself to care about that sort of thing. His multi-billion dollar corporation proved that his brain functioned just fine when it mattered, and really, he was allowed to enjoy himself once in a while, even if it was at the expense of others (and it usually was). That moment when he revealed a face down card or summoned his Blue Eyes White Dragon or finally put his strategy into action and watched Joey Wheeler's life points tick down to zero, saw the shock and disappointment in his eyes... It was such a _rush_.

And this was the best part.

"That was just _pathetic_, Wheeler. You played even worse today than you did two days ago, and that's saying something."

"Shut the hell up, Rich Boy!" Wheeler hissed as he slapped his borrowed Duel Disk into Seto's waiting palm. "You know, I almost had you beat a couple of times back there."

"_Almost_, if you're delusional enough to think that's what that was, still isn't good enough," Seto shot back. "You're still just a third rate player, in the end. Duelling you is a waste of my time. Tell me, exactly how long to you plan to keep this up?"

Joey sneered at him.

"Until I _beat you_."

Seto raised an eyebrow at him. He tucked the disk back into his briefcase along with his own, and hefting it aloft, turned his back on Wheeler to walk casually across the school yard toward the waiting limo.

"So," he tossed tauntingly over his shoulder. "I take it you'll be challenging me forever, then?"

Wheeler made an incoherent noise of rage.

"I swear to God, Kaiba, next time I'm gonna take you down!" Wheeler screamed after him.

"Sure you will, Mutt," said Seto sarcastically, waving the comment away. "Sure you will."

"_You may have beaten me in this duel!" _Joey had said after his Battle City defeat. _"And you may even beat me in the next duel, too! But I'm going to keep coming back until I win, Kaiba."_

As Wheeler swore loudly somewhere behind him, Seto found himself shaking his head and chuckling softly to himself again. So, Wheeler planned to keep this up until he finally beat Seto, did he? Fine then. It wasn't as if Seto actually minded duelling him quite so much as he let on. Really, he kind of, maybe, in the most abstract sense, enjoyed it. Somewhat. A tiny bit. _Sometimes_. And besides which, he was perfectly confident in his belief that Wheeler was never going to actually win against him. He could challenge Seto every day, if he wanted. It didn't matter.

In fact, Seto kind of hoped he would.


	2. Little Man Being Erased

Seto's mind was still on the duel two hours later as he descended into the depth of KaibaCorp's honeycomb of testing labs with the self-assigned task of testing out the newest update of his Duel Monster's holograms. All afternoon, he'd been replaying the steps in his mind. Not in the obsessive, most likely unhealthy way that he often did with his duels with Yugi, but like he was solving a puzzle, analyzing the last game in order to predict the possible ways in which the next one could be played. It occurred to him that he was actually _dwelling _on a game he'd _won_, against Joey Wheeler of all people, and that he was, of all thing, _anticipating_ the next duel, but he suppressed that thought quickly and concentrated on the issue at hand, which soon, instead, became the need to analyze the sudden, strange swell of that niggling feeling in the back of his mind that usually signified that something, somewhere had gone wrong.

It must be something about the duel, he thought. But was it something he himself had done wrong or a mistake made by his opponent? Typing in his pass code and pressing the down button to the deepest test lap, he leaned against the elevator wall and, closing his eyes, replayed the duel in his mind again, trying to pinpoint a moment that might bother him in such a way. He couldn't think of a single thing. It had been a genuinely good duel, with only a few minor mistakes (such as Joey underestimating his trap card, he thought smugly) that surely wouldn't trouble him this way. Had he forgotten something important? He pulled out his palm pilot and checked his calendar. There were no meetings scheduled for this afternoon. Mokuba's parent-teacher conference _was_ scheduled for Monday, after all, just as he'd thought. It wasn't any of his business allies' birthdays or anniversaries. So what could it be? What was it that was making him feel so uneasy?

He shrugged.

'I'm worrying over nothing,' he told himself. 'There's no need to make such a fuss over a feeling.'

Some time testing the duel systems would help take his mind off of this weird sense of foreboding. He had been meaning to work on them sometime this week, anyway. These new holograms were going to look more solid and real than ever. He'd added quite a few twists to the appearance of the attacks, and he had to say, if the technology worked correctly, it was possible that this would be the most frightening and incredible Duel Monsters experience the player could ever get, short of fighting with the real thing. If everything went as he anticipated, there was a very real possibility that they were going to make Kaiba Land the most popular theme park in the world.

He'd been working for months, before and during Battle City, making concept drawings and encoding programs. His lab had finally finished the prototype his holographic projector design at the beginning of the week. Now all that was left was to test it out.

The experience with the Big Five and that accursed game hadn't been enough to stop Kaiba's habit of beta testing all of his inventions himself. There were a few simple reasons for this, the first being that, out of everyone on his team, Kaiba always felt that he himself was the most qualified to recognize and fix glitches and mistakes, because he had designed it, of course, and also because, well, he was Seto Kaiba, after all. If his employees were somehow smarter than he was, he was quite sure that they would not be his employees at all, but his business rivals instead. The second reason was one that he chose not to express to anyone but acknowledged only to himself. He had always had a sense that, as the creator of these products, he was, on some level, creating them for himself. 

So, it only made sense for him to test them himself. If he didn't like it, what was the point of making it, anyway?

Shaking his head as if to clear away such ridiculous notions, he strode from the elevator and into the room, which had been set up as a typical dual arena for this first test run. Locking the door behind him, he made his way up to the dual platform nearest the door, setting his briefcase on the desk portion. Opening it, he dug beneath the two Duel Disks to find the electronic tablet on which he had stored all the information for the game. He plugged it in, booted up the system, and tapped the tablet pen against the desk thoughtfully. Seeing the Duel Disks had brought his mind back to his earlier duel yet again, so in the end, he ordered the system to call the Red Eyes Black Dragon hologram for his first test.

The thing burst into existence, roaring so loudly that it actually shook the platform. He nodded, satisfied. Appropriate sound level: check.

Using the tablet, he rotated the hologram of the monster one hundred and eighty degrees, focussing on the small details of its scales and bone mass, using the pen to do the trimming and altering where he saw the need. If only it were possible to alter people in this way. Maybe then he could alter Joey Wheeler so that he actually had a brain, or at least a decent haircut. Then again, he thought, Wheeler as he was so much fun to mock as he was. It would be a shame to rob himself of such spiteful joy.

"_It's never over..." _

He had just began to go through the attack modes, making notes to make the blast of its attack look as if it got more distance and that the throat moved down in a certain way that signalled that blasts coming, when he had a sudden feeling of not being alone. He glanced up at the door, but found it to be still locked, and annoyed at himself for dwelling on his irrational thoughts so many times in one day, he turned back to the monster.

"_...until I beat you."_

The second he touched his pen back to the tablet, the Red Eyes Black Dragon exploded into a billion, impossibly bright pixels that lingered in the air, great chunks of golden light, drifting softly toward to ground. Seto blinked in surprise and was halfway to making a note of a major glitch in the program when he noticed the figure standing on the opposite duel platform.

But there it was, as real as he himself was: the slim figure of a young man, bathed in the dying gleam of the remnants of the dragon hologram, his hair a halo of light in its glow. A golden ring glimmering ominously from where it hung on his neck.

"How the hell did you get in here?" Seto asked, thinking of the elite security force, the different pass codes for all 22 section of the building, the _still locked door_.

Bakura laughed.

"I have my ways," he said, cocking his head arrogantly.

Seto set down the tablet pen calmly and, not seeking to hide his action in the least, reached up and pressed the button that he had sewn into his collar. At this cue, security alerts went out throughout the building, the room was bathed in red light, and the doors surrounded by sliding plates of bulletproof steel, as the famous KaibaCorp security system went into full out panic mode.

"Well," said Seto. "If you are as great as you believe, I'm sure you'll have no trouble getting past KaibaCorp security on the way _out_."

Bakura shrugged, completely unperturbed.

"In good time," he said. "Aren't you even the slightest bit curious about why I'm paying you this visit?"

"Not really," said Seto. "Now, leave."

"You have something that I want," Bakura continued, as if Seto had not spoken. "And I've come to take it."

Seto glanced quickly down at the tablet in his hand, mentally calculating the deficit that KaibaCorp would experience due to the loss of all of their research on this, their most promising project and that number's many, many digits flashing through his mind, and even more importantly than that, his imagination of the heartbreak on Mokuba's face, he quickly determined a plan of action. Reaching for the briefcase, he thumbed the catch open imperceptibly, keeping his eyes trained on Bakura's face.

"Is that so?" he stalled, waiting to hear the sound of his security guards' footsteps in the hallway outside the door, his only reply the wailing echo of the alarm.

Bakura laughed harshly, and, taking it as an opportunity, Seto pressed the button on the tablet that would start the shut down process.

"No need to be coy, Kaiba," said Bakura. "We both know that you have what I'm looking for. And we both know I'm going to get it."

"Over my dead body," spat Seto, unplugging the cord with one quick yank and sliding the tablet slowly toward the open briefcase.

"That can be arranged," Bakura said, grinning. "If you insist. But I have no intention of _killing _you just yet, so long as you cooperate."

Seto slid the tablet into the briefcase through the thin crack of the opening.

"And how am I to know that you won't simply kill me after I've given you the program?"

"_Program_?" Bakura spat, raising an eyebrow. "I see. Program, is it? Oh, you _are_ a fool."

Seto narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Just that you have mistaken my meaning entirely," Bakura said casually. "You need have no fear for your precious technology, my dear Kaiba. The object that I desire is of a much more _mystical_ nature."

Not ready to believe anything the thief said quite yet, if ever, Seto closed the brief case, and setting it gently on the ground, manoeuvred it with his foot so that it was behind him.

"I promise you," he said. "You aren't going to find anything like that here."

"No," said Bakura, tilting his head and grinning even wider. "No, but you see, I think I will. I have it on very good authority that my toy has gone to you for safekeeping, and I intend to get it by whatever means necessary."

"I'm afraid you've done all of this posturing for nothing," Seto told him. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You _should_," said Bakura, tilting his head to the side. "But no matter. I have the means to retrieve what I want. The only thing standing in the way is you."

"And you want to duel me for it," said Seto, levelly.

Bakura's eyes glittered dangerously.

"Not this time."

The ring hanging from his neck began to glow with golden light, the charms hanging from it all lifting of their own accord and pointing straight at him and as Seto watched in astonishment, the light of the ring was joined by a matching glow in both of Bakura's hands, three pinpoints of gleaming light, which then seemed to spread to his entire body, until he was only an outline of light, so bright that Seto had to shield his eyes, and then, shut them, as the light seemed to only increase in intensity. He turned his head, and still it shone right through his eyelids, searing and impossibly bright. Pain shot through his eyes and then into his head, beating against the walls of his skull.

Sinking to his knees, Seto clutched at his head, trying to fight of a wave of nausea, his brain feeling as if it were trying to turn inside out. His every nerve ending singing in pain, he tried to press the button on his collar again, to signal a medical emergency, but his limbs were made of lead, his brain swimming with images, sounds, and emotions that all jumbled together, rushing through his consciousness with such intensity and speed that it left him dizzy and gasping for breath. He was barely aware of sliding the rest of the way to the floor, concentrating instead on making his hand move. Unable to reach the button, he simply grasped the locket with Mokuba's picture in it like a talisman, feeling the world tip and buck around him, feeling something in his mind threaten to wrench apart.

The last thing he was aware of before finally slipping into unconsciousness was the cool feel of metal in his palm and the sound Bakura's laughter in his ears.


	3. The Cavalry

_Author Note: So, as you might notice, this fic takes place after a slightly AU ending to Battle City. Why? Because it just worked more easily that way. Yes, I know that's a terrible reason, and I am suitably ashamed. Also, I'm just letting myself write what I want with this, so beware of wackiness. Well, this story is only just this side of crackfic anyway, so I don't feel too badly._

* * *

Joey had thought that all of this Egyptian crap was over when Yugi had defeated Marik in the Battle City tournament. Sure, he'd known that Yami would be seeking his memories, just like Joey was seeking to become a more powerful duellist, but in spite of these life changing goals, he'd really thought they were putting most of this drama behind them. Maybe it was naive, but he'd really hoped that they could finally move on from Battle City, hopefully go back to the good ol' days before all of that drama, when they were just playing a card game and... Well, okay, maybe it had been an awfully long time since they'd just been _playing a card game_, but still, he could settle for the days of Duelist Kingdom, when they'd all had a simple, easy, no-need-for-questions-of-morality type goal to complete and managed to have fun while working toward that goal. Those had been the days...

Comparatively speaking, of course.

So, yeah, Joey really _had_ had his heart set on tonight. Sitting in Yugi's living room and holding their own little tournament (with absolutely NO Kaiba affiliation at all being its best feature as far as Joey was concerned), just the four of them and Duke Devlin, hanging out like in the old days, playing Duel Monsters without all of the fancy holograms and posturing for once. Oh, yes, it would have been _awesome_.

If only he had not answered the door to find Ishizu Ishtar standing on the Mutou's doorstep, a nasty looking bruise on her cheek and her Millennium necklace conspicuously absent from her person.

"I need to speak with Yugi Mutou," she had said. "It is a matter of grave importance. The fate of the world may be at stake."

"Oh, god_ dammit_," said Joey. "Not again."

So now, instead of having a fun filled night of goofing off and playing Duel Monsters, they gathered together in Yugi's living room, huddled around Ishizu. They sat in silence for what could have only been moments, but felt like eternity, the only sound the echo of the television Yugi's grandpa had playing in the kitchen, as Ishizu sipped on the glass of water that Yugi had fetched for her from the kitchen and patted delicately at a cut above her left eyebrow with a tissue. In their spots beside her on the couch, Joey could see Téa and Tristan fidgeting awkwardly, worried looks on both of their faces. Duke was perched on the arm of the sofa at Tristan's elbow, looking as odd and out of place as he usually did at these sorts of gatherings. Yami (it must be Yami, now, he thought, though he wasn't sure quite when they made the switch) stood across from her, his arms crossed and a serious look on his face, looking as if he were just barely restraining himself from pacing. Joey himself was exiled to the floor. Apparently no one had appreciated the hilarity of his cheerfully calling out "Yugi, come quick! It's the end of the world again!" as he led Ishizu into the house. He picked at some lint on the floor, pouting slightly. Whatever. They might as well get a sense of humour about this stuff, since the days when their lives were in peril now seemed to far outnumber the ones where all the worst thing that happened was a detention or a lot of homework. Or losing another duel to Kaiba.

"Pharaoh," Ishizu finally began, setting her glass down on the coffee table and refusing to meet his eyes. "I don't quite know how to say this. After all, when you entrusted my family with our chosen Millennium Items, I assured you that I would do my best to keep them safe. I tried to keep that vow, Pharaoh, I assure you, but..."

"What happened?" asked Yami, obviously dreading the answer.

Ishizu balled her fists up in her lap.

"I'm afraid that this morning I had a run in with a certain thief with whom we are both familiar."

Yami clenched his fists.

"Bakura?"

Ishizu nodded, raising her head.

"He broke into our temporary dwelling in Domino City, where we have been staying while my brother was recovers from the trauma his body had endured when possessed by his evil side. The thief somehow discovered our location and came to steal our Millennium Items."

"And he escaped?" asked Yami, in a low voice.

Ishizu nodded.

"And our searches for him yielded nothing of value. He seems to have completely disappeared."

"Come to think of it, Bakura wasn't in school today," said Téa. "I didn't even think anything about it."

"Yes," Ishizu said. "It seems that he is much more adept for this sort of thing than I had previously thought."

"Wait, Ishizu," Yami says, seriously. "You haven't said... _Tell_ _me_ he didn't succeed."

Ishizu was silent for a moment, and Joey could feel unease coiling heavily in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you that, my Pharaoh," said Ishizu miserably. "He came upon us as we were resting. My brother is still in his weakened state, and he could do nothing to prevent the theft. I myself was caught unawares, and just as I realized what was happening, he overtook me. As you can see, he was not overly gentle. When I awoke, my Necklace was gone."

Téa gasped, and the others shook their heads despairingly. Joey frowned.

"I don't mean to sound rude or anything, Ishizu," he interjected. "But... how come you didn't see this coming?"

The others glared fiercely at him in annoyance, obviously feeling that he _did_ sound rude, after all, but the Egyptian woman only sighed.

"I'm afraid my sight was limited. I do not know how, but it seems that the thief somehow managed to utilize his Millennium Ring to block my Necklace from predicting his actions. Such a feat is not impossible."

Yami nodded, comprehendingly.

"Yes," he said. "I see. I've always felt that the Ring has many untapped powers that none of us knew about, and of course, we know that the Eye has a range of unusual powers. Who knows what the two can do when their powers are combined. "

"Man, this is not good," said Tristan, with a sigh.

"No kidding," said Duke. ""I mean, he could do something like that with just those _two_ items."

Tristan nodded. "Exactly. And now you're telling us that Evil Bakura has his ring, Pegasus' eye, your necklace, _and _Marik's rod?"

"No," said Ishizu hastily. "That is the one good thing that has come out of it. Although he has gotten my Necklace, the thief was, at least, unable to take the Millennium Rod."

"What? Why not?" asked Téa.

"Yeah, what happened?" added Joey.

"It was strange," said Ishizu musingly. "According to my brother, he had already wrenched my necklace from me, and went after the Rod. As I have said before, both my brother and Odion are still much too weak to fight off an enemy, and yet, when the thief reached for it, the item eluded him. There was a flash of light and it was simply... _gone_."

"Gone?" Joey asked. "Gone where?"

"Well," said Ishizu. "I do have some residual psychic powers after being the owner of the Millennium Ring for such a long time, and from the feelings I am getting, I imagine that it has simply fled to its rightful owner. It seems that, just as Bakura's ring is linked to himself and cannot be taken from him by force, the rod also is linked, in some lesser capacity, to the reincarnation of the priest for whom it was made."

"Which is...?" Duke prompted.

Yami opened his mouth to answer, but it was Téa who spoke next, her voice raised to a shriek.

"Kaiba!"

"Yes," said Ishizu, giving her a strange look. "Seto Kaiba. He is—"

"No," Téa exclaimed, pointing toward the kitchen television, just visible from their position behind the cracked door. "Look!"

Yami strode quickly across the room and slid the door open forcefully.

"Grandpa, turn that up!"

Startled, Solomon Mutou quickly complied, and the voice of the young reporter suddenly flooded the room.

"...outside Kaiba Corp, after its CEO, seventeen year old Seto Kaiba, was apparently found unconscious a short while ago by police responding to what was apparently a glitch in the security system. According to paramedics, when found Mr. Kaiba showed no signs of physical injury or abnormality, but simple could not be wakened. Insiders say that Mr. Kaiba was testing a new version of his Duel Monsters hologram technology when the accident occurred, but have no comment on whether this accident is related to those tests. As of yet, paramedics have yet to determine a cause for Mr. Kaiba's condition."

"Bakura," hissed Yami, clenching his fists.

Ishizu clapped a hand over her mouth.

"I had no idea he would act again so soon," she whispered, sounding shocked. "How could he have _known_? What has he _done_?"

Joey wondered at the fear he could hear in her voice. Was Kaiba really that important? So important that his condition cause this much worry to a woman whose usual concern, aside from her brother, was a huge as the fate of the world?

"...just received confirmation that Mr. Kaiba has been declared to be in a comatose state and is being moved to a hospital as we speak. Look, here come the paramedics now!"

The reporter rushed forward, along with about twenty of her colleague's, taking pictures and shoving microphones in the faces of the policemen that stood blocking the paramedics from their assault.

"Vultures," Joey hissed, disgusted despite his dislike for Seto Kaiba.

The cameraman managed to get a close up of Kaiba's face as they rolled his out on a gurney. The young CEO lay perfectly still, his lips parted slightly and his eyes open and vacant. He looked dead, rather than simply in coma, and Joey barely repressed a shiver at that thought. Just as quickly as the flash of Kaiba had come, it disappeared once more into the mass of frantically waving arms and camera flashes. The ambulance doors closed with an audible slam and the siren began as the vehicle rushed off down the street. The reporter brushed her hair out of her face and turned back to the camera, completely unapologetic.

"We will continue covering this story outside of Mr. Kaiba's usual hospital, Sister of Mercy, and keep our viewers updated on his condition. Back to you, Keiko."

"In other news..."

_Click._

Yami pressed the off button on the television, his expression carefully blank. They all regarded each other for a moment, as Solomon blinked at them in confusion and Ishizu stood very still by the couch, lost in her own guilty thoughts. Then, making some kind of collective decision, the group nodded together, and they all ran as one through the living room and out the front door, turning down the street in the direction of the hospital, Yami (or was it now Yugi?) at the lead. Glancing back, Joey saw that Ishizu herself was stumbling after them, looking equally as panicked. He could hear Yugi's grandpa calling out after them, asking where they were going, but everyone seemed to feel the urgency that Joey himself felt, realizing that speed was of the essence here, and no one, not even Yugi, slowed down to explain the situation to the old man.

They just kept running.

_If this were the actual show, I keep imagining that this chapter would end in one of those freeze frame line-drawing , characters paused in mid-run shots that they do at the end of episodes to be REALLY DRAMATIC. That amuses me beyond reason, and I'm not sure why. All the Joey chapters seem to morph into the anime and not the positive aspects of it, either. Oh, well._


	4. Fools Rush In

Author's Note: I'm not sure this chapter is good in any technical sense, but it does do its job. And this will probably be the last chapter for a while. Sorry. Still, I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

The crowd outside of the hospital was ridiculous. Reporters swarmed around the entrances and exits, their crew people in tow, eagerly harassing anyone entering or exiting the building for any information on the young CEO's condition. A slightly smaller, but no less vocal crowd consisted of well-wishers, fans of Duel Monsters who relied on KaibaCorp for their gaming equipment and idolized Kaiba as the games chief promoter. The parking lot was a mess of hastily parked vans, the abandoned bicycles of young and old fans alike, and the cars that moved slug-like through, seeking a spot to park so that their sick occupants could actually enter the hospital. It was a hazard.

_Ridiculous_.

Apparently, Joey was now officially the only person in the world who didn't think that Kaiba's existence was one of the centre points of the universe.

Not that he wasn't worried about the guy. He had run, like, five blocks nonstop to get here, after all, and was still recovering from the completely visceral reaction he had experienced from seeing someone he knew, had known for years, whom he'd only seen this _afternoon_, lying on that gurney like a corpse. So, yeah, he was worried. But he'd been in his own mystical coma in Battle City, and he was pretty sure that no one had acted as if the world were going to break apart at any second then, like Ishizu was currently doing. Really, Joey was starting to wonder what she knew that they didn't. So, Kaiba was the reincarnation of the priest who'd supported-slash-revolted against Yami in the past life. Big deal. Joey was probably the reincarnation of some random Japanese fisherman or some shit. Was the world going to break into a billion pieces if he died without ever catching a fish? What made Kaiba's past life so important?

It was an honest question. To Joey, it didn't make any _sense_. It just didn't. Sure, _Yami's_ importance to the fate of the world did make sense, in that he was still _around_, with all of these magical objects dedicated to him, existing inside one of them, but the High Priest had been dead for a thousand years. Joey didn't think he was much more important than the Kaiba that they knew. In fact, being dead, he should probably be less so. Weren't the things people did in their current life more important than the actions they had taken in a previous one?

The funny thing was, the only person he could think of who would probably agree with him on these kinds of thoughts lay in a bed somewhere in the hospital in front of him, asleep and maybe never waking up, because the very past he'd kept denying had come to haunt him. Kaiba had always said that the Priest he had supposedly been was not an important part of himself. Now, he was in a coma because he'd had the misfortune of being born with the man's soul. Joey was no fan of Kaiba's, but he had to say, that seemed pretty damn unfair.

"So, what are we going to do about this?" asked Téa, gesturing toward the crowded doorway.

Just beyond the great crowds of people, they could see the reason that they were all flooding the parking lot and not the hospital: KaibaCorp's world famous security force. Apparently, Kaiba had created the system himself and hired only the most elite men to respond to its call. Joey was fairly sure that each one of those men could snap him like a twig using only their little finger.

Time for master planner Joey Wheeler to save the day.

"Okay," said Joey to Tristan and Duke. "You guys be the distraction. Keep the guards busy while we—"

"Wait, why do we have to be the distraction?" asked Tristan.

"Yeah," said Duke. "We're _always_ the distraction."

"That's not true," Joey argued. "I've been the distraction lots of times!"

"Boys," Téa interjected, frowning. "Is this really the time?"

"Then you be the distraction, Joey," Duke said, ploughing on.

"No way! It's your turn!"

"Guys, come _on_."

"How do you figure?" Duke snapped.

"I don't even think we need a distraction," Tristan added.

"Yeah, this is a _stupid_ plan."

"No, it is not!"

"GUYS!" Téa screamed.

They all paused and blinked at her, as she glared back at them.

"_How_," she gritted out. "Are we _going_ to _fix_ this? Does anyone have an _actual_ plan?"

"Hey!" Joey interjected.

"We always do this," complained Duke. "We always run off heroically toward danger, but we never have a plan about what we're going to do when we get there. Am I seriously the only one who's noticed this?"

"Distractions always work!" Joey insisted, speaking over him.

"On KaibaCorp security?" Téa asked, sarcastically. "You think so?"

"Well, I think we should go around the building and see if there are any other ways to get in," said Tristan, crossing his arms defiantly.

They paused, thinking his suggestion over.

"You know... That's _actually_ a good idea," said Téa, sounding surprised. "Let's do that."

"You don't have to say it like it's so shocking," Tristan complained, as they all got up from their seats on the curb and walked toward Ishizu and Yami, who were having some solemn, whispered conversation a little ways off.

"...the fate of the world!" Ishizu was saying earnestly.

"Oh, let me guess," Joey mumbled to Tristan. "It's at stake, right?"

Tristan turned his incredulous laugh into a cough as the two Egyptians turned to regard the group, Téa explaining their basic "plan" of action to them as they joined the group, walking foreword to get closer to the hospital.

"Wait," said Duke. "Wait a second, you guys."

They paused.

"Let's think about this. Don't you think we're a little bit... conspicuous?"

Joey glanced at the assembled group, quickly taking stock: One unusually short kid with huge, tricolour hair whom _any_ media personality-slash-nerd worth their snuff would recognize as the King of Games; one tall, foreign looking woman wearing flowing, all white clothing and huge, gold jewellery; one extremely pretty boy wearing a belly shirt and a die for an earring; and an extremely busty schoolgirl.

At least he and Tristan weren't...

Oh, wait. Even _he_ was somewhat well-known as a Battle City finalist. And the rabid KaibaCorp fanboys gathering at the hospital? They would definitely be in the know about that kind of thing. And Tristan's crazy hair wasn't exactly discreet either, now that he thought about it.

"Aw, _man_. We're not even going to be able to get _close_, are we?"

"Okay," said Tristan briskly. "I have an idea. Since I'm the least noticeable of all of us, I'll go and case the joint- which, by the way, I have _always_ wanted to say- and then I'll call you guys and tell you what I find."

Okay, thought Joey. That seemed reasonable enough. What could go wrong?

Fifteen minutes later, as he picked leaves out of his blond hair and inspected the bruises he was sure were developing on his knees and elbows, he had to wonder why he always fell for this shit.

"You couldn't find a place to break in that _wasn't_ a second floor window, Tristan? Seriously?"

"Not really," said Tristan. "And I was really sure that the human chain plan would work. How was I supposed to know you wouldn't be able to balance on my shoulders?"

Before Joey could reply with something appropriately scathing, Téa interrupted them.

"Guys," she whispered. "Guys, get down!"

The two crouched back down behind the row of bushes as a group of particularly dedicated Kaiba fanboys (one of them was _actually_ _wearing_ a bad knockoff of that hideous trench coat Kaiba had been sporting in Battle City, much to Joey's undying amusement) wandered past, apparently with the same idea of searching for another entrance as they'd had. Joey doubted it would work for them, either. According to Tristan, every one of the doors had Kaiba's guards posted at it, and they were only admitting doctors and patients into the building, requiring extensive conformation of the person's identity or condition before even doing that. Joey had to say, it all seemed very extreme, even for Kaiba. Then again, Kaiba may not have had a security plan that detailed what the security force was supposed to do in the event that he was put into a magical coma and announced as seriously ill on national television.

He glanced over at the others, all crouched in the bushes like himself. Ishizu appeared to be attempting to continue to look dignified, sitting with her legs tucked beside her and her hands in her lap, while Téa had somehow managed to crouch in a position that left her ready to move at any moment and didn't make her uniform skirt slip down. (The product of lots of practice, he was sure.) Tristan was, like himself, crouched just low enough to not be seen, while Duke sat cross legged on the ground, picking leaves out of his curls with an expression of extreme displeasure. Yami was glaring up at the window as if he was trying to decipher its great mysteries, crouching on one knee, a hand on the ground to balance himself and another clenched tightly in a fist. While appropriately dramatic, Joey thought that the position looked extremely uncomfortable. But hey, who was he to judge?

Wait a second...

"Um, other Yugi? Your hair's sticking out."

Yami blinked and then sat heavily back on the ground with a sigh, crossing his arms.

"Better?"

"Yeah," said Joey. "You're good."

"It's not your fault," said Téa kindly. "Yugi's hair is just really big. I bet you had a much more reasonable hairstyle when you had your own body."

Yami said nothing, and Ishizu raised an eyebrow, almost, Joey thought, actually making an expression. After a moment, Téa blinked and added:

"Oh, wait. On the tablet, you had... the same... hair. Huh. Well. It's still _really_ big, right?"

She stopped, blushing heavily.

"We need a plan," said Yami, deftly changing the subject. "How are we going to get to Kaiba?"

"We _have_ a plan," said Tristan, stubbornly.

"Yeah," said Duke. "It's just a physically _impossible_ plan."

"If you'd just try it again—"

"No way in hell, Taylor," said Duke. "Once was enough."

"It couldn't have been _that_ bad."

"It was that bad," said Duke matter of factly. "My ass hurts like hell. And I am _never_ going to get this shit out of my hair."

"God, Duke, you're such a _girl_," Tristan said angrily.

"Hey!" exclaimed Téa. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What did you just say?" Duke growled at Tristan, flipping his long, black hair over his shoulder.

"You heard exactly what I said!"

"O-_kay_," Joey said, attempting to break the tension. "_I _have a plan. We create a distraction—"

"Aw, _Joey_," Téa sighed exasperatedly.

"No, no, hear me out! We throw a big rock through one of these windows, and when the security guys run over to stop someone from breaking in, we make a run for the entrance."

"Sounds good enough to me," said Yami casually. "Where are we going to get the rock?"

Joey blinked, glancing around. There were no rocks in sight, big or otherwise. It was just his luck.

"Okay, new plan," he revised. "We take everyone's shoes and tie them inside of Tristan's jacket, and then we throw the jacket through—"

"Hey, guys!" a voice sounded suddenly to their right.

Turning, Joey saw Mokuba Kaiba leaning out of a first floor window, motioning to them frantically.

"Come on! Climb in! Hurry!"

"Okay," said Joey slowly. "Yeah, that works, too."

xxxx

Kaiba looked even worse in person than he had on the TV. Seeing him lying there in that hospital bed, hooked up to machines and I.V.s, his face impossibly pale, Joey couldn't help but wonder at the fact that, even at the end of Battle City when they had believed the Kaiba brothers to be dead for all of two seconds, it seemed that he had somehow never really accepted the fact that Seto Kaiba was actually _mortal_, just like the rest of them. And yet, here he was, looking somehow impossibly smaller and softer in his hospital gown. Vulnerable. Joey had known Seto Kaiba since they were fifteen years old. Kaiba had never looked as young as he did right now.

He wasn't sure why it made him feel so sick to his stomach.

"The doctors say they can't find any physical cause for it," Mokuba said, walking over to Kaiba's bedside to cup his brother's hand in his own. "They say that, sometimes, people go through something so bad that they go into shock kind of like this, but..."

"But that's not what happened," Joey finished. "No way. Not Kaiba."

Kaiba was way too much of a tough bastard to let a little trauma break him like this. Joey had gotten a glimpse of Kaiba's past on the way to the Battle City finals, and he couldn't imagine something that would hit Kaiba so badly that he couldn't pick himself back up and dropkick it in the face. And no matter how bad the situation, Joey knew that Kaiba would never, never give up. Not when Mokuba was around and needed him.

"It must have been Bakura," Yami said. "I'm sure it was."

"Bakura?!" Mokuba exclaimed. "My brother was in the most heavily protected area of KaibaCorp! How would Bakura get past security? These guys are tough! You don't know how hard I tried to get out of here to come get you."

"The news report said something about a security system glitch, didn't it?" Téa suggested. "Do you think he may have taken advantage of that to get in?"

"Considering the powers that three Millennium items provide him, it's entirely possible that it was he himself who caused the system to malfunction," said Yami. "Once he was inside, there's no telling what he could do to Kaiba."

Ishizu nodded.

"And yet, Pharaoh, I am getting a strong psychic signal that seems to indicate that Kaiba's current state is being caused by some sort of magical influence," she walked forward and looked at him for a moment, her brow furrowed. "His soul is still within his body."

Yami strode forward to join her, looking thoughtful.

"Can you help him, Yugi?" Mokuba asked softly.

"I don't know, Mokuba," said Yami. "If I can, I promise you, I will."

He reached out and, before their very eyes, his puzzle began to glow and the Eye, the seal of the Millennium items, appeared on his head. His eyes glowed, as he set one hand on Kaiba's forehead and another on his chest, in the area just above his heart. After a moment, the light ceased, and he let his hands slide from Kaiba's body, shaking his head.

"I don't know _what_ Bakura has done," he said, after a moment. "Kaiba's mind... It's all _wrong_. It's as if he went through every bit of Kaiba's subconscious and ripped it all to pieces. It's no wonder he isn't responding."

"Whu— What do you mean, 'ripped it to pieces'?" Mokuba asked in a small voice. "You— You mean big brother is...?"

"He's not gone, Mokuba," Yami said. "His conscious mind is still there, somehow intact, but it lies dormant. The conscious mind cannot exist without memory, without emotions, without the unconscious influences of the past, without dreams."

Ishizu nodded solemnly.

"The mind is incomplete," she said. "Kaiba still exists, but the only way for him to emerge as he was before is if the two minds are connected, and right now, there is no way for him to reconcile his surviving mind with the part that is broken without going mad."

"So, you mean, basically, he's trapped in his own head," Joey said.

"In the strictest sense," said Yami. "Yes."

"So how do we get him out?" asked Tristan.

Neither Egyptian replied, and after a moment, Tristan said, hesitantly.

"We _can_ get him out, right?"

Yami sighed.

"Since Bakura used the magical items to break his mind apart, it would take some great magical force to bring it back together again," he said. "The puzzle is simply not powerful enough to do something like that alone."

"What if we could get Shadi's help?" asked Joey. "Would it be enough, then?"

"I'm not sure," Yami said, thoughtfully. "What do you think, Ishizu?"

"I'm afraid that it is not possible, my Pharaoh," she said. "But there is another way, I think. The Millennium Puzzle may not be enough to fix his mind in one fell swoop, but it might be enough to put you in a position where you can do the fixing yourself."

"What do you mean?" Yami asked.

"Your Puzzle can transport souls, can it not? If it can transport minds too, and I believe it can, what is preventing you from projecting yourself into Kaiba in the same way that Shadi might project himself into your own mind?"

"It certainly seems possible," Yami mused. "Both Bakura and I have transported minds at some point in the past. In theory, I should be able to place myself and even others inside of someone else's mind. "

"So," Duke interrupted, looking as lost as Joey felt. "What does all of that mean?"

Mokuba nodded vehemently.

"Yeah. Can you help my big brother or not?"

"What it means is that we may indeed be able to save Kaiba. But to do that, Yugi and I, and those of you who are willing to assist us, will have to use the powers of the Millennium Puzzle to enter Kaiba's mind and fix the damage from the inside."

"Can we really do that?" Tristan asked. "I mean, can we really fix him?"

"I don't know," said Yami. "But we can try."

"We _have_ to try," said Téa. "We're all he has. Without our help, he could be trapped in his own mind forever."

She glanced at all of their faces entreatingly, begging them to agree with her.

"I'm in," said Tristan, finally.

"Me too," added Duke.

Joey at the hopeful face of Mokuba Kaiba, at his friends' expectant faces, at Yami's grave, questioning expression and thought that, of all the people in the world, Kaiba was the last person he would have thought he'd want to save (that he would ever _need _to save). He thought of all of the insults, the vicious duels, the jabs, the prods, the outbursts of violence that Kaiba seemed to draw out of him like a leach. He thought of the duel they'd had only this afternoon, of Kaiba asking when he was going to finally give up and admit that Kaiba was better than he was.

He thought about his reply, about losing Kaiba forever and losing those duels, those chances at victory. About never, ever seeing Kaiba glaring at him over the top of some novel or tilting his head as he called Joey a mutt or watching him brandish the Blue Eyes White Dragon card as if he were holding the very substance of the universe.

He looked at the frail, lifeless form of his rival, and thought that, as bizarre as it was, of all the people in the world, Kaiba had become one of the ones he was most unwilling to lose.

"Let's do it."


	5. A Dream Within a Dream

Author's Note: It's been a long time since the last update, hasn't it? Sorry about that! Slow author is slow. Just so you know, I'm not abandoning the story, by any means. I've been working full time over the summer, as well as working on other projects. Thank you for all of the lovely reviews you've left in the meantime! I'm really shocked and pleased by the amount of interest in this, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! The next should be coming much more quickly.

* * *

"This room should remain unused for a while," said Ishizu, opening one of the doors across from Kaiba's own. "We can keep your bodies here, in the hospital. I will guard them until you return, to ensure their safety."

"And I'll help her," Mokuba said. "That is, if you're sure I can't go with you."

"Sorry, Mokuba," said Yami. "But I really don't think your brother would appreciate us putting you into danger, even if it was to help him."

After quickly checking the hallway for guards, they all filed hurriedly into the darkened room. It was no different from Kaiba's own room, as far as Joey could tell: a single room, holding one bed and three chairs pushed against the wall, somewhat ghostly, now, in its emptiness. Joey sat down heavily in one of the chairs, and the others followed his lead, each finding somewhere to sit comfortably and regarding each other with expressing veiled only partially by the room's dimness.

"So, I have to ask. Just how dangerous _is_ this, exactly?" Duke wanted to know.

"We're not really sure," Yami said. "We've never done anything quite like this before."

Ishizu nodded.

"It's possible," she said, "That, if you were harmed somehow while inside Kaiba's mind, the injury might actually manifest psychosomatically, but you shouldn't be in mortal danger. If you were to die, somehow, all that should happen is that you're mind will return to your body. Theoretically, at least."

"Theoretically?" asked Duke, warily.

"Well, _almost_ certainly," said Yami. "But..."

"But try not to die, just in case, right?" Joey quipped.

"Right," said Yami. "That's the idea."

"Well," said Tristan, raising an eyebrow. "That's _really_ reassuring."

"You know, it's not too late to back out if you don't want to help," Téa said tersely from her spot on the bed, probably annoyed that they even had _room_ for doubts in this situation.

"No one's backing out," said Joey, noting, but not particularly caring, that Tristan and Duke looked less than thrilled at his speaking for them. "We all said we'd do it, didn't we?"

"Yes," said Yami, thoughtfully. "If you're sure."

"We're sure!" Joey and Téa said together, and Tristan and Duke nodded, after a moment.

"We _did_ say we would," said Tristan.

"Damn it," added Duke, smiling to show that he was joking, at least for the most part.

Yami smiled at that, tension turning the expression into a terse, thin-lipped affair. Ishizu kept her eyes trained steadily on her clasped hands. It was obvious to all of them that the two lacked confidence in this method, but Joey really couldn't bring himself to care.

"Well," he said, after a moment. "Come on, then! What are we waiting for?"

Yami nodded to Ishizu, and closing her eyes, she lifted her brown arms, fanning her fingers in front of her. Joey could feel pressure building in the back of his skull, bright light edging in from the corners of his vision, and he breathed in sharply as Ishizu's voice echoed, as if from underwater:

"It should only be a moment now."

xxxx

When Seto awoke, the first thing he noticed was the total silence that surrounded him. Rubbing his head, where the painful throbbing from before had come to a complete halt, he looked around to find himself staring at a white expanse of source-less light. He couldn't even feel ground under his feet and glanced down to see what, in fact, was anchoring him in place, which was when he noticed the second thing. He was completely naked.

"Damn it."

When he got out of this thing, he thought angrily, _whatever_ it was, he was going to kick Bakura's ass, and after that, he was going to kick the asses of every member of his security team for not stopping the bastard from getting into the complex. And then he was going to kick Joey Wheeler's ass, just to make himself feel better. He'd gotten into a lot of bad situations over the years, but before today, he could at least say that none of them had involved nudity. He would have very happily kept it that way indefinitely, had he been given the chance, but apparently, Bakura had other plans.

What those plans were, however, Seto couldn't fathom. Several minutes of waiting proved fruitless. He attempted to walk at one point and found that he was unable to move his feet more than a foot in front of him or to either side. He couldn't move at all backwards, he found, and his hands met the same barrier, which seemed to end about an inch from his head. So, not only was he naked, but it would appear that he was also trapped in an invisible box. Perfect.

He flexed his toes and thumped his head back against the wall. Or was it a wall? In this place, surrounded by white light on all sides, he couldn't be sure that he was even standing. He lifted his head again and relaxed, feeling gravity pull it backwards again. Well, lying down, then. Not that it made any difference. He hissed in annoyance. Being trapped this way was more than just infuriating, it was humiliating, too, and even though he could see wide open space all around him, the realization of how small his set barriers actually were left him feeling more than a little claustrophobic. He closed his eyes, envisioning a different environment to keep himself calm, and flexing his toes again, he was surprised to find his movements met with the scratch of slick strands of dewy grass.

He opened his eyes and swayed slightly, dizzy with the feeling of being suddenly upright. He found himself standing in some kind of garden, the sort of ornate British-style ordeal featured prominently in the pretentious, rarely-read travelling books that Gozaburo had liked to keep on his living room bookshelf. Several feet in front of him stood a fountain, water gushing out of vases held by insipid little cupids, and beyond it, he could see a small, gravelled path wandering through a gap in the large hedges and taking a sharp right toward some destination that he could not see. He moved toward the road and noted with pleasure that he was no longer trapped by that invisible barrier in this place, and interestingly enough, not only could he see the environment, he could feel it, down to the heat of the sun on his still-bare skin. Surprisingly realistic.

If he could will himself here, he posited (_hoped_) that he could also will himself out of his own nudity. Almost as soon as the thought had entered his mind, he felt his skin brush against cloth. Looking down, he noted that, for whatever reason, his mind had decided to supply him with his Battle City outfit instead of something more appropriate for the setting, but since he was fairly positive that this was all a dream, anyway, he wasn't particularly bothered. Still, it did feel incredibly real. So real, he thought, as a gentle breeze rustled through his hair, that, if he didn't know better, he'd almost believe he'd actually been transported to this place.

A thought that quickly vanished as he turned the corner and saw the figure standing just beyond the hedge: himself, just as he had been at twelve, tiny hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, the card-shaped locket lying heavily against his breastbone.

"Well," said the little boy, steadily. "Took you long enough."

xxxx

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Joey just couldn't repress a grin.

"So," he said. "This is what Kaiba's mind looks like, huh?"

"The first level, at least," said Yami, straight faced. "Yes."

Joey sniggered. They had faded back into consciousness moments before to find themselves standing in a high-ceilinged atrium, obviously modelled after the lobbies of high-class hotels or, more likely, office buildings. Widely spaced and airy, the room was tastefully dotted with green plants of various types (all fake) and a large fountain bubbled serenely in the middle, the clear water glistening in the bright, faux-natural light that shone down on them from a ceiling that had obviously been built to replicate a glass dome. Beyond the fountain, he could see a long hallway, housing neat offices with transparent walls, and to his left a crème-coloured metal door promised to lead to the stairs. There was even a large, dark-wooded desk to Joey's right, empty office chairs lined in neat rows behind the bare counter. The air smelt distinctly of freshly scrubbed tile and air freshener.

"Oh, Kaiba," said the blond, not without fondness. "You boring old bastard."

"That's not very nice, Joey," Yugi said from somewhere behind him.

Joey opened his mouth to respond, but paused, his eyes widening. He glanced back at Yami, still standing to his left. At almost the exact time, the rest of the group seemed to register the incongruence as well, and they snapped around in tandem. Téa gasped.

"There are _two_ of you!" she exclaimed. "Well, I mean, of course, there are two of you, but..."

She trailed off vaguely, and Yugi and Yami quirked identical brows.

"Too weird, man," Duke proclaimed, pulling a face.

"Freaky," said Tristan in agreement.

Yugi scratched at the back of his neck.

"Well," he said, obviously a little embarrassed by their stares. "We do have two different minds, so I guess it makes sense."

Yami nodded.

"Exactly," he said. "This is not really strange at all for _us_, anyway."

Joey, who had finally managed to get his mouth to close, nodded.

"That makes sense," he said. "Plus, this could be kind of fun! You know, we've never hung out with both of you at once."

"We're not really 'hanging out,'" said Yami, disapproving, as Yugi beamed at him from over the nameless pharaoh's shoulder, and Joey noticed for the first time that the wall to Yugi's back held a polished, professional looking elevator.

"I know, I know," he said, with a roll of his eyes. "We're here to save Kaiba. But you know, I'm not really seeing anything to save him _from_, except maybe over-use of Lysol."

"Yeah, I know," said Tristan. "It's weird. Somehow I expected Kaiba's mind to be more exciting than this."

"I expected more dragons," Duke said, grinning.

"Maybe there are some walking around here with ties and briefcases," Joey joked.

Téa coughed pointedly.

"While we're making fun of Kaiba, maybe we should also take a look around this room," she said, gesturing widely. "I mean, doesn't it seem off to you guys?"

They all took another glance around the room.

"There isn't a main entrance," said Joey, after a moment's consideration, pointing to the wall nearest to the desk. "It should be there, but instead there's nothing."

"And there are no windows," Tristan pointed out.

"That's not all," said Téa. "I've been thinking since we got here that there's something wrong with that hallway."

Joey strode over quickly, past the fountain and squinted. Téa was right, and the hallway looked stranger the closer he got, somehow flatter, and by the time he got up to the entrance, he though he knew why. Instead of walking in, he lifted a hand. Sure enough, he found his palm pressed flat against a solid surface.

"It's fake!" gasped Yugi. "It's just painted right on!"

Yami narrowed his eyes before walking over to the stairwell door and, twisting the handle, gave it one useless tug.

"It's no use," he said. "The door's fake, too, and the stairs are obviously painted on the glass."

"That's what's off," said Téa, softly. "This whole room is fake. It's like a movie set, isn't it? It looks real enough, but it's not functional."

"But then, are we-?" Duke started, looking a little pale. "Are we _trapped_ in here?"

Yami shook his head.

"Maybe not," he said. "We still haven't tried the elevator."

Joey wasn't sure why he felt so anxious about that proposition, but the others must have felt it, too, because even after nodding in agreement, it took several long moments before someone reached out and pressed the lone, lighted button on the metal pad. The elevator opened instantly, the doors sliding open with a pronounced _whoosh_. The inside was roomy and inviting, the tiled floor and wooden panelling offset by the mirror that lined the far wall. In spite of the innocuousness of the thing, Joey felt a chill run down his spine, whether because the elevator was actually a portent of some danger to come or because he'd just seen too many elevator-themed horror scenes, he couldn't tell.

"Well," said Téa, finally, and strode forward.

This was apparently the push everyone needed, and they quickly followed her, Joey jogging across the room to join them as they performed the awkward, familiar dance of fitting a large group of friends into a tight space. But in spite of this normal ritual, Joey found that he still couldn't swallow his feelings of unease, something that only increased when he noticed that the large metal panel that would usually hold the buttons for at least twenty floors held only one, right at the centre, a button labelled, not with a number, but with a word:

_In._

"Oh," Joey said, nervousness translating easily to sarcasm. "That's good."

"We've come too far to back out now," said Yami.

"Wasn't planning on it," said Joey and pressed the button.


	6. The Experience Machine

Author's Note: Second verse, same as the first. I'm sorry I've taken so long to update! Again, I promise I'm not abandoning this story. I'm just very, very busy. Thanks you for all of your lovely reviews! This chapter is very fast paced, so it seems really short to me, but I realized it's almost a thousand words longer than the last one! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Thank you again for reading!

* * *

"It took you forever to get out of that box," said the younger version of Seto. "I almost can't believe we're the same person. Then again, I guess you _have_ had a hard day."

Seto sighed in annoyance. He was still feeling the vertigo of the shift to standing, and the feeling was making him even more short-tempered than usual. A gentle throbbing was starting behind his eyes, the kind that usually came after he'd spent all night working on his computer at the expense of sleep.

"All right," he said. "What kind of virtual reality have I been trapped in _this_ time?"

His younger self laughed mockingly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No virtual reality," he said. "You know Bakura would come up with something more original than _that_."

"Right," said Seto impatiently. "Am I supposed to duel you or something?"

The little boy rolled his eyes.

"Hardly. Don't you know where we are?"

Seto looked around again, but this part of the garden looked exactly like the part he'd already seen and just as unfamiliar. He squinted. He could feel his dizziness settling into fogginess, the pounding in his head getting stronger, and he wondered if it was making him miss something obvious.

"I don't recognize it," he said.

The boy drew a finger down the cord of his locket, smirking.

"We're in your mind, of course," he said, and his smile widened. "Well, _our_ mind, I suppose I should say."

Seto scoffed.

"Oh, please," he said. "I'm supposed to believe something like that?"

The boy shrugged.

"You don't have to. It's just true. When Bakura attacked us, he put you in a coma. You'll believe _that_, won't you?"

Seto remembered well what had happened to Wheeler after his duel with Marik during the Battle City Tournament. The situation wasn't exactly the same, but he could see the correlation. It wasn't completely unbelievable, at least.

"So, what, then?" he asked, glaring. "This is just a dream?"

The boy laughed.

"I never said that."

"I'm starting to lose my patience," said Seto, rubbing his throbbing temples. "If this isn't a dream, then what is it?"

"I already said that," the younger Seto said loftily. "Pay attention."

Seto frowned, but let him continue.

"Bakura didn't just shut your mind down," he said. "He stuck his grimy fingers in and messed it all up. You're here now, because your – _our_ – conscious mind, which is _you_, by the way, isn't able to operate without the rest of it working right."

Seto raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm not saying I believe you," he said, and his head throbbed with the sound of his own voice, now. "But that doesn't explain why we're here."

"You're here to stay," said the boy. "Until you can wake up from your coma."

It was as if a film was settling over Seto's brain, making everything misty and incomprehensible. He narrowed his eyes, thinking past the feeling with difficulty.

"But if I'm here, not doing anything, how will my mind get fixed?" he asked, slowly.

He saw his mirror image grin, as if from far away.

"Oh, it won't."

Everything was blurring now, shifting, and Seto heard the words muffled, as if from underwater. He tried desperately to concentrate on the conversation, on what they had been talking about, but it was all slipping away.

"Then..." he pressed both palms to his head, struggling to hold onto the thought. "Then how do I get out of here?"

Like the whisper of a dream's memory, Seto thought he heard the echo of a faraway voice saying smugly, _"You don't," _but as he glanced around the beautiful British-style garden behind his home, he couldn't remember who it could have possibly been.

Oh, well. It probably wasn't important.

xxxx

The elevator began gliding downward as soon as Joey pressed the button. He let out a puff of air through his nose, rocking back on his heels. He couldn't see his friends as they also shifted restlessly behind him, but he could feel it. Above him, the florescent light hummed softly and began to flicker.

'_Oh, goo_d,' he thought. '_That's not foreboding.'_

He opened his mouth to express the sentiment, but before a syllable could leave his lips, the light went entirely, and the elevator gave a mighty lurch. Joey stumbled back against Tristan, turning around to speculate the pitch black emptiness surrounding them.

"What the—"

From the wall of the elevator to his right, there came a loud thump, and then another, from the wall right next to him. There was a sudden, terrible sound, and Joey knew, with a jolt of horror, that it was the screech of twisting metal.

"What's going on?" Yugi gasped frantically from somewhere nearby, as the elevator rocked again.

Above them, the light flickered on again. Joey pulled away from Tristan to inspect their surroundings. Near the ceiling, on both sides, the elevator walls were caved in, as if something had pressed inward on them with great force. Another sound started then, piercing, like nails on a chalkboard, a high-pitched, snapping noise, and Joey turned quickly to the back wall. The full length mirror was cracking, fractures spreading, web-like, from the two upper corners. In front of his eyes, they wound outward, mesmerizingly slowly. And then, it came again, so loud it made his ears ring:

_Thump!_

The mirror exploded.

Téa screamed, wrapping herself around Yugi and shielding her own face, as Tristan reached quickly to grab Duke by the back of his shirt and pull the other boy with him as he stumbled backward. Joey shut his own eyes, feeling tiny bits of glass stinging as they hit his face.

It was all over in a matter of seconds. Joey cracked an eye open tentatively. Glass tinkled softly as it continued to break away from the frame, and as everyone began to shift, it crunched beneath their feet. Téa released Yugi, casting fearful eyes behind her, as the shorter boy brushed bits of the mirror from his hair. To Joey's right, Tristan released his grip on Duke, who swayed sideways, shuddering.

"Is everyone all right?" asked Yami, sounding calmer than Joey thought he had any right to.

"I'm okay," said Yugi, and the rest of the group mumbled their agreement.

Joey could see a few small scratches on Téa's neck and shoulders, and Duke was sporting a gash across one cheekbone, but other than that, everyone did appear to be uninjured.

"What _was_ that?" Téa asked, still looking panicky.

"I have a better question," said Tristan, glancing around. "Are we stuck?"

Joey blinked. The elevator was indeed stationary. He reached over to the panel again, pressing the "In" button a few times. Nothing happened.

"Think we should try the escape hatch?" he asked.

As if in answer, another thump shook the elevator. A huge dent caved in the ceiling, and the case around the florescent lighting cracked in half. One of the bulbs burst, sending sparks shooting out, and Joey had to jostle Yami to avoid them.

"Oh, no," moaned Duke. "Not again!"

The elevator rocked threateningly. Outside something was creaking, shifting. The car stilled for a moment, and then Joey heard it: a great, echoing snapping sound. He didn't even have time to swear before his stomach was in his throat, and he felt himself plummeting downward.

The elevator was falling.

xxxx

Seto glanced up at the blue sky. Had he just heard something? No, not heard; perhaps, _felt_. A shiver ran down his spine, though he couldn't imagine why. It felt like something was wrong, but...

"Big Brother?"

He blinked, looking around for the source of the voice, and spotted Mokuba waving to him from across the garden.

"Seto? Are you listening to me?" asked the little boy, pouting slightly.

"Sorry, Mokuba," Seto said. "I was thinking. What were you saying?"

"Dinner's ready," said Mokuba, smiling.

He jogged over to grab Seto's hand and tug him over toward the gazebo, where Seto could see a nice lunch laid out, two empty chairs sitting next to the two that were already filled.

"I found him, Mom and Dad!" chirped Mokuba.

Seto's mother smiled, adjusting her floppy sunhat.

"I see that! Where did you wander off to, Seto?"

Seto took the seat next to her.

"I don't know," he said. "I was just walking, I guess."

"He said he was thinking," said Mokuba conspiratorially, climbing into his own chair.

Seto's father laughed.

"Well, when isn't he?" he asked fondly.

"Our little genius," said Seto's mother, squeezing his shoulder.

Smiling, Seto reached for the teapot and poured himself a glass. Mokuba gathered too much butter onto a knife, and Seto's mother gently took it from him, wiping a bit off and buttering his croissant for him.

"It's so nice to have you home from work for lunch, dear," she said to Seto's father, handing the bread to Mokuba, who took it happily.

"Well, it's all thanks to Seto here that I can do things like that," he said. "Before, I couldn't spend all of this time with my family. I'm much happier now."

Seto's mother cupped his hand gently in her own.

"Oh, darling, I'm much happier, too."

"Me, too!" chimed in Mokuba, winding the cord of his locket around two fingers. "I'm much happier this way! Aren't you, Seto?"

Seto tilted his head to the side. Something _was_ off here. He was sure of it now.

"Aren't you happier, Seto?" Mokuba asked again. "Happier than before?"

Seto furrowed his brow.

"Before what, exactly?" he asked carefully.

"You know," said Mokuba, grinning. "Before _this_. It's all so nice now."

Seto glanced around the table, at his parents' vacantly smiling faces, at the perfectly sculpted garden, and the beautiful summer's day. He pressed his palms to his eyes. There was something he'd forgotten. He was certain of it. Mokuba's gaze remained unwavering.

"It's just like you imagined it, isn't it?" he said. "All those years ago, at Gozaburo's, when you'd look through those picture books, you'd picture us all happy like this. And now it's come true. Isn't it wonderful?"

Seto's eyes snapped open. He raised his eyes quickly to stare at the boy.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

Mokuba laughed.

"Don't be silly, Big Brother," he said, beginning to get up. "Come on, play with me!"

Seto slammed his fist on the table.

"Who are you?!"

The young boy paused. Turning to give Seto an impassive look, he sunk back in the chair. He tilted his head back and crossed his arms, looking at Seto from down his nose.

"Hmm," he said. "It took you less time than I thought it would to shake that off."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Seto asked angrily.

The air seemed to shimmer around them almost imperceptivity, and then the chairs where his parents had sat were empty and, instead of Mokuba, a younger Seto sat in front of him.

"What was it?" he asked. "Too perfect?"

It all came rushing back to Seto, then. The duel with Bakura, awakening in that empty space, what the boy had said earlier. He stood up from the table, suddenly, sending tea cups tinkling in their saucers and grabbed the boy by his collar.

"You!" he yelled. "What the hell are you trying to do?"

"Haven't you guessed, yet?" the boy sneered at him, unconcerned. "I'm keeping you here."

Seto flung him back into the chair.

"Why?" he snapped. "Why keep me from waking up, then, if you're part of me?"

The boy's grin widened even further.

"Oh," he said, looking up at Seto through his bangs. "We all have our reasons."

His forehead glowed, suddenly, and Seto recognized the symbol that seemed to be etched there: the mark of the Millennium Items.

Seto breathed in sharply.

"_Bakura_."

The boy inspected his nails.

"Maybe Bakura got to me," he concurred calmly. "But even though you've figured that out and seen through my ruse, you're still not going to get out."

He glanced up at Seto.

"Let's try that brainwashing thing, again."

He brushed his fingers over his locket, again, tracing the edges. A thought occurred to Seto. He had an idea of how this was all working, and if it was his mind after all, he knew he had the advantage there.

"I don't think so," he said. "Time for me to go."

The boy opened his mouth to mock him again, but Seto's hand shot out and, grabbing the locket, yanked it from his neck.

"What are you doing?" shrieked the boy. "Give that back!"

Seto snapped the card-shaped necklace open. Instead of Mokuba's picture, the inside held a mirror, reflecting his own image back to him, and there, shining on his forehead, he could see the mark. He stood up quickly and moved toward the wall. The boy, still shouting, jumped from his seat and rushed toward him, but he was too slow to stop Seto from smashing the locket mirror-side down on the gazebo railing. He heard it crack, felt the ground slip from under his feet, and the world went black.

xxxx

All he could hear where screams. Joey had always enjoyed the freefall rides at amusement parks, but this was nothing like that, and when he felt his feet begin to lift off the ground, he started to yell himself. His heart was pounding so quickly he thought it might explode. There were warm bodies jostling him from all sides as his friends stumbled around the plunging structure. The elevator was twisting to the side, now, and Joey reached out to grab onto the handicap railing only to find the piece of metal coming off in his hand, its body mangled by the damage to the elevator. Téa was closest to him now, sobbing and clutching uselessly as the smooth wall. He caught a glimpse of Duke attempting to brace himself on the button pad, but he lost his balance anyway and was forcefully slammed against Tristan, who had stumbled forward to attempt to reach the escape hatch. They were falling so fast, so impossibly fast. Joey could hear himself speaking, but he had only the vaguest grasp of what he was saying.

"Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, shit, we're gonna die! We're gonna _die_!"

And then, just as abruptly as they had begun falling, they stopped. The force of the sudden cessation had them all tumbling to the ground. Joey bit his tongue as the impact sent his jaw snapping shut. He heard the sickening sound of someone banging their head particularly hard on the floor. They all lay there gasping for a moment, despite the bits of glass digging into their skin, trying to regain themselves. The elevator gave a cheerful _ping_, and the doors slid open.

Joey stumbled to his feet, staring in apprehension at the scene in front of him. The room bore a strong resemblance to the one they'd first encountered, if that room had in fact been torched, ransacked, and abandoned for thirty years. The walls were stained black and peeling. The fountain in the middle of the room was crumbling and covered in water stains. The reception desk was cracked, its chairs lying scattered on the ground. Where the painted on hallway had been, there was a veritable wall of nailed-on planks. The ceiling lights were mostly blown and the ones that weren't were dirty and flickering.

Glancing at his friends, he could see that they were thinking the same thing he was: Did they really have to go out there?

The elevator creaked, then, making their decision for them, and they all stagger out in unison. Joey paused, though, turning around to the rail he'd been holding earlier. Grabbing the snapped off end, he gave the other a few kicks until it gave, too, leaving him with a nice make-shift weapon, before following the others out of the Elevator from Hell. Tristan raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" asked Joey, slapping the piece of metal against his palm. "Hey, _I've_ played Silent Hill!"

An awful rending sound, similar to the one Joey had heard earlier began, and right before their eyes, the elevator began to cave in on itself. Several more of those massive thumps, and the sides of the elevator met in the middle, and as Joey fought the urge to vomit, it folded up on itself into almost nothing and disappeared as the wall itself seemed to close up on it with a floor-shaking quake.

Joey swallowed heavily.

"Oh, good," he said, shakily. "That's not foreboding."

xxxx

Opening his eyes, Seto found himself once again lying down, this time surrounded by darkness on all sides. Moving tentatively in an attempt to orient himself to his environment, he found that he was once again enclosed in a box, but this time, he could feel the surface of it around him, recognizing the texture of the walls as wooden. A _coffin_, he realized, obviously designed to keep him trapped here, separated from the chaos of his unconscious. Pressing his palms against the solid roof, he twisted and manoeuvred so that he was braced solidly against one side, pressing his feet against the roof and opposite side, hearing the coffin creak in protest, feeling the panels shift a little under the force. Taking a deep breath, he used all his strength to press up again, and on the third attempt, the coffin gave way with a mighty cracking sound, the lid breaking off entirely, the side slumping away from the body. Seto sat up briskly and, lifting it off of himself, hurled the lid across the room.

So, Bakura thought he could keep Seto from interfering, did he?

"Nice try."


End file.
